Volume 4 Episode 03

The black cat I received from Sendai-san today has made its bed right beside my pillow.

On the crocodile’s back, the tissues become unusable, and if I’m not careful, it rolls off. On the desk it gets in the way of studying, and on the bookshelf it makes taking books out difficult.

So the spot by my pillow became its place out of necessity, not because I especially chose it.

“They’re supposed to be friends. Happy?”

I pull the crocodile, whose usual spot is the floor, up onto the bed and ask it. Even when I place it next to the black cat, the crocodile doesn’t answer. Of course it doesn’t. If it did, it would be scary.

Still.

Just what does Sendai-san think I am?

My tissue cover is a crocodile, but that doesn’t mean I decorate my room with lots of plush toys, and I’ve never said I like plush toys. I’ve never said I like cats or animals in general either.

That’s why the reason she gave me a black cat plush toy as a Christmas present is a mystery.

In the first place, Sendai-san doesn’t seem like the type to give plush toys as gifts. Thinking about it that way, it feels like there might be some meaning behind choosing a plush toy, or that she picked it randomly because she doesn’t care about me.

But if she had given me accessories like the ones I gave her, I would have refused them.

Because it was something half-hearted like a plush toy, I was able to accept it.

The problem is that another object connected to her has increased in this room.

“I don’t even know what to do with your uniform,” I mutter.

I stroke the black cat’s head, then look at the closet. Inside is Sendai-san’s uniform blouse.

The short-sleeved blouse she swapped with me along with her tie before the cultural festival has taken up residence in my room. Unlike the tie that returned to Sendai-san, the blouse never went back to her, and there will never be an occasion to wear it. In the end, it remains stored in my closet as if it were mine without ever being worn once.

If possible, I wanted to drive that blouse, tied to several memories, out of this room, but I couldn’t.

The newly arrived black cat is the same.

It is connected to Sendai-san.

Moreover, the events of today that I want to seal away are soaked into it and won’t come out.

This kind of thing is really troubling.

I lower the crocodile back to the floor.

I exhale all the air from my body and close my eyes.

What happened on this bed today was terribly embarrassing, but it wasn’t bad enough to ban her from the room—I absolutely don’t want Sendai-san to know that.

When I’m with Sendai-san, I end up doing more than I intend. I won’t deny that I thought “just a little” would be okay, but I feel I allowed too much. 

'We won’t have sex.'

I’m pretty sure Sendai-san was the one who said that first, yet somehow things like this keep happening. That rule felt obvious to me too—something that didn’t even need to be promised—yet not only during summer break but today as well, I ended up doing things that could be called breaking the rule.

Honestly, I never intended to let it go that far.

If I complained, Sendai-san would surely say that I was the one who chose to allow it, but I had no choice because of the exchange condition of having her teach me during winter break.

Thinking about it now, it feels like Sendai-san never mentioning winter break at all was to draw an exchange condition out of me. It's infuriating to feel that she made everything my fault so I would settle my feelings by deciding today was unavoidable.

And even so, I’m bewildered that I unconditionally forgive that kind of her.

It’s always me who chooses; Sendai-san never chooses.

She meticulously makes me the one to choose.

I think Sendai-san is unfair.

She sets the rules herself, then kicks them aside and comes closer.

I’m the one who sowed the seeds of this relationship by paying five thousand yen to buy her. Those seeds were supposed to never grow, meant to stay buried underground without even sprouting. Yet Sendai-san waters them and makes them grow.

I never asked her to do that.

If I had only sown the seeds, we could have ended everything at graduation without any resistance. But once they sprout, guilt accompanies pulling them out. And the bigger they grow, the more hesitation there is in ending their life.

In reality, I already regret deciding that graduation day would be the end.

Yet I don’t regret today’s events that much. I’m just not satisfied that only I was made to feel embarrassed. It feels like only I lost.

I really want to call Sendai-san and complain, but we’re not the kind of relationship that calls each other.

It’s not yet time to sleep, so if I called she would probably answer. But considering what happened today, I can’t call just to complain.

After that, Sendai-san and I acted as if nothing had happened, but I couldn’t invite her to eat dinner together, and she left quietly without mentioning dinner either. We were only pretending not to feel awkward, so even calling her during winter break feels like it requires consideration.

“It’s all Sendai-san’s fault, everything’s a mess.”

If I call her right at the start of break, it will seem like I’m expecting something, and if I don’t call at all, then the whole point of the exchange condition becomes unclear.

I pick up the black cat beside my pillow.

I start to throw it at the ceiling, then stop.

I grasp the black cat’s paw and return it to its original spot. I’m used to being alone, but today, when I think by myself, only things I don’t want to think about come to mind. This room feels so uncomfortable it no longer seems like my own.

I feel Sendai-san’s presence even though she isn’t here and can’t calm down.

I stand up and take my smartphone from the table.

I want to talk to someone, but the face that comes to mind with the word “someone” is Sendai-san’s. But “someone” means anyone, not specifically her. There’s the black cat and the crocodile in this room too, but they won’t be conversation partners.

I thump the pillow and look down at my phone.

After hesitating a little, I bring up Maika’s name on the screen.

“Are you free right now? I want to talk a bit.”

When I send the message to Maika, she replies, “I’m free.” I call immediately, and a cheerful voice comes from the other side of the phone, making me feel relieved. The familiar voice calms my heart.

Naturally I have no intention of talking about what happened here today.

So I start talking with Maika about things that happened somewhere other than here.

✧✧✧✧✧

“Was this room always like this?”

Maika, sitting across from me, spreads her notebook on the table and lets out a curious voice.

“It’s always been like this.”

I answer as if it’s obvious, but her sense of wrongness is correct. The room is subtly different from the one time in the past when Maika came over to hang out.

The table is bigger, and there are more things.

It’s the second day of winter break, and today again Maika is strangely sharp.

Since the night of December twenty-third when I talked with Maika, Sendai-san has not come to this room. But I spent Christmas with Maika, and we’re meeting today too.

“Hey, Shiori, don’t you use a fan heater? Didn’t you say you got one last year?”

Maika mentions the name of something that was in the room until the beginning of this year but is no longer here. I’m impressed she remembers.

I definitely told her that last year.

“I’m not using it now.”

This winter I left the fan heater packed away. It had been useful ever since I got it, but it seems like it will end its service without being used. It’s not exactly for Sendai-san’s sake, since she always looks hot, but I didn’t bother taking it out because the air conditioner alone seems enough to get through winter.

“If you’re cold, should I turn up the temperature?”

I ask while reaching for the air conditioner remote, and Maika, sitting across from me, answers, “I’m fine.” Unlike with Sendai-san, our sense of comfortable temperature is similar, so the room can be kept at a perfect temperature that is neither too hot nor too cold.

When I’m with Maika, everything is always just right.

I can be my usual self.

That should be the case, yet there’s a part of me that feels restless with Maika in this room.

“Shiori, are you studying properly every day?”

Maika asks while placing reference books and workbooks on the table.

“Sort of.”

“As expected of an exam taker.”

“You’re an exam taker too, Maika.”

“That’s true, too.”

Today we were supposed to study at Maika’s house, but the plan changed easily and she ended up coming to my room instead. Relatives suddenly showed up and her mother kicked her out, so the study session ended up being held here.

I felt hesitant about letting Maika into this room that still carries traces of Sendai-san, but if I had said “absolutely don’t come to my house,” she would only become suspicious.

“Shiori, do you like cats?”

Even though she’s arranging study materials on the table, Maika looks like she has no intention of studying and is staring at the bookshelf. Her gaze is fixed on the black cat plush toy lounging up there.

“I don’t especially like or dislike them.”

I moved it from its usual spot beside my pillow to the bookshelf before Maika arrived, and it seems to be settling comfortably into its temporary home as if it intends to stay there forever.

“Right. Did someone give it to you?”

“I bought it myself. It’s kind of a friend for that one.”

Without mentioning that it was a gift from Sendai-san, I point to the crocodile placed beside the table.

“For this one?”

Maika drags the crocodile, guardian of the tissue box, toward herself.

“Yes.”

“That plush is cute, so I understand wanting to buy it, but a friend for this, huh.”

Maika pats the crocodile’s head while speaking.

“It would be lonely alone, right?”

I get on my knees, take the crocodile back, and place it under the table.

“Shiori, did something happen?”

“Why?”

“Because… ever since third year started, you’ve been distant. You said you were busy during summer break too and hardly met me.”

She makes an exaggerated sulking face as she says this.

“You said you were busy with cram school during summer break too, Maika.”

“That’s true, but I wondered if something was going on.”

“You’re the one with something, right? You said you had something to talk about. What is it?”

Let’s study together.

That was what Maika’s message last night said. But we rarely study together on days off, and instead of inviting Ami—someone it wouldn’t be strange to include—she invited only me, adding “I also have something I want to talk about a little” as an afterthought. So I assume the real reason is the “something to talk about,” not studying.

Considering that Maika, who said she was busy with cram school during winter break too, went out of her way to meet me by making up an excuse, it must be something fairly important.

“Ah, yeah. There is something.”

For some reason she sounds evasive.

Watching her, it doesn’t feel like good news, and I start to feel uneasy.

“Shiori… can I apologize first?”

Maika speaks in a troubled voice.

“...Is it something so bad you feel you need to apologize?”

“I don’t know, but I feel like I should apologize. So, sorry.”

It’s not the type of thing I want to hear—a story important enough to use a study session as an excuse, and serious enough that she wants to apologize beforehand. But I can’t refuse to listen, so I prompt her with, “So?”

“I asked before, but Shiori, are you close with Sendai-san?”

“...We’re not close, but is that what you wanted to talk about?”

Maika’s story probably hasn’t reached the main issue yet. But even this preface is already the worst possible topic, and I feel like holding my head.

The very last person I want to be asked about—and the very last person I want to talk about—is Sendai-san.

“Yeah, well, something like that.”

Maika answers vaguely and drinks from the cider whose ice is half-melted.

She then lets out a small breath and begins to speak slowly.

“I told you before that I talked with Sendai-san on the way to the school store, right? You seemed bothered by it back then, so I thought I should tell you.”

November.

The day Sendai-san hugged me in the music preparation room.

Maika told me she bumped into Sendai-san in the hallway, and that led to a short conversation.

I remember that day well.

I asked Maika what they talked about. At the time, Maika said it was nothing important, but if she’s bringing it up now, that means she hid something.

I have a bad feeling.

“What is it that you felt you had to tell me?”

“Back then the conversation turned to universities, and I told Sendai-san my first-choice school. She told me hers too, and when we realized the schools were close, I ended up mentioning you as well.”

“Huh? Mentioning me…”

“Sorry, I told Sendai-san that it looks like you’re applying to the same university as me. Should I not have said it after all?”

Maika speaks with an apologetic expression.

“It’s fine. It’s not something worth apologizing for. I’ve only talked with Sendai-san a few times, but we’re not close, and I won’t get angry over something like talking about universities.”

This is a lie.

I’m not angry, but it’s definitely not “fine.”

Of course she shouldn’t have said it.

I’m so shaken that the area around my temples throbs.

No one knows what kind of relationship exists between me and Sendai-san.

Of course Maika doesn’t know.

“Even so, why did you suddenly decide to tell me now after keeping quiet until today?”

I ask as brightly as possible to avoid showing how suspicious I feel inside.

“I thought it wasn’t necessary to mention, but back then Sendai-san asked quite a lot about you, and lately you’ve seemed kind of strange too. That kind of thing makes me overthink, you know? So I felt like I should probably tell you. Besides, I had a feeling you and Sendai-san seemed close.”

She says “I had a feeling,” but Maika’s tone sounds like she’s doubting me. Maybe my own guilt is making me feel that way, but it feels like my throat is being squeezed and I can hardly breathe.

“I’ve said it many times, but I’m not close with Sendai-san, and if she asked about me it was probably just because she had nothing else to talk about.”

I tell myself to calm down and speak while looking at Maika.

“That might be true. But really, you two—”

Maika starts to say something.

But perhaps because she feels guilty for having hidden things, she swallows the words and instead says, “Sorry, somehow.”

“Let’s study soon. Maika, teach me this part.”

Normally I would say, “If you started saying it, finish it,” or “Stopping midway feels bad,” and force her to continue. But today I don’t do that.

I pretend those unsaid words never existed and show Maika the workbook spread on the table. She looks like she wants to ask more, but she doesn’t press. Maybe she senses I don’t want to continue the topic, because she looks down at the workbook and asks, “Where?”

Maika is kind.

I always take advantage of that kindness, and today again I am saved by her not asking more than necessary.

Right now, in front of such a kind Maika, all I can think about is Sendai-san.

I feel bad doing this while we’re supposed to be studying, but what I just heard won’t leave my mind.

Sendai-san knows which university I’m applying to. There’s no way I can stay calm after hearing that. I had kept my first-choice school hidden all this time.

I never told her.

But she knew.

The day she hugged me in the music preparation room—she already knew everything then.

Maika’s voice feels distant.

I can hear it, but I hardly understand what she’s saying.

I had suspected that maybe Sendai-san knew.

But it was only a “maybe,” and I kept telling myself there was no way she knew.

Yet—

In the end, I studied half-heartedly, and Maika went home earlier than planned. I remember riding the elevator together and seeing her off outside the apartment building, but what we talked about is hazy.

Without eating dinner, I sit alone on the bed. My mind has stopped trying to think, and time simply passes.

Before I know it, it’s past nine, but it’s not too late to call someone.

I hesitate for thirty seconds—no, about a minute—then call Sendai-san. After the ringtone sounds twice, I hear a surprised voice.

“That’s rare. Miyagi calling me.”

There’s something I want to ask.

That’s why I called.

The reason she tried to make me say my first-choice university even though she already knew it.

The reason she steered me toward applying to the same university or a nearby one even though she knew that too.

That is what I want to know.

Right now all I can think is that she simply found my reactions entertaining, and it makes me furious. If there is another reason, I want to hear it. I want her to deny that she did it only because she thought it was fun.

But I feel like I won’t be able to ask properly over the phone.

“Sendai-san, come teach me. Right now.”

“Even if you say right now... I’m already home today, it’s impossible.”

There is no need to rush or panic. Rushing or panicking would look suspicious. If I brushed it off casually, the matter would end there.

Yet my words came out too fast and sounded like an unnatural excuse. Because of that, I remembered Maika was looking at me as if I’m suspicious.

I know that. 

It’s not too late to call, but it is too late for a high school student to go out.

Even so, I want her to come right now. I want to talk to her face to face.

“Come anyway even if it’s impossible.”

“Can’t it be tomorrow? I have prep school so it’ll be a little late.”

“Then you don’t have to come at all.”

“If Miyagi lets me stay over, I can come right now.”

“Never mind. I’m hanging up.”

“This is just my usual joke. What’s wrong today?”

She probably tried to lighten the mood with a joke because my voice sounded stiff and the atmosphere had turned sour. I understand that, but I don’t have the composure to laugh and respond.

“...Sendai-san. Don’t you have anything to tell me?”

“Nothing in particular. What is it? Did something happen?”

Sendai-san, who doesn’t know what my words mean, speaks in her usual voice. Of course she wouldn’t know what to say, but I’m irritated by that usual tone.

“If there’s nothing, fine. You don’t have to come here during winter break.”

I say it almost like I’m picking a fight, and she lets out a troubled-sounding voice.

“Can you wait a second? I’ll come right now.”

I don’t think this is real anger, but I am extremely angry right now. Yet I also want to see her immediately.

And I’m angry at myself for feeling that way.

“...Tomorrow is fine.”

“Really, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. After prep school is over is fine, so definitely come tomorrow.”

“I’m coming right now, wait for me.”

She says it in a gentler voice than I expected.

“Tomorrow is really okay.”

I try to speak as calmly as I can to steady myself, and she replies, “Got it. It’s a promise.”

That was all we needed to say, and I hung up quickly.

I’m not very hungry, but I force myself to eat cup noodles.

I take a bath and lie on the bed.

I sleep poorly, morning comes, night approaches, and then the intercom rings.

Sendai-san comes to the room Maika visited yesterday.

I prepare cider and barley tea, and we line up reference books and notebooks on the table.

The room is a comfortable temperature for me; for her, it seems warm.

She naturally sits beside me with her back to the bed.

She sits quietly without saying anything.

She could ask about yesterday’s call or whether I have something to talk about.

That would be fine.

But she doesn’t ask anything and simply sits beside me. The only meaningful thing she has said since arriving is something like “Sorry for being late.” Now she’s looking at the reference book spread on the table.

She did arrive later than I expected. She came when it was almost nine, so I think she was being considerate. Not mentioning yesterday’s call might be her own form of kindness.

But it feels unnatural.

The usual Sendai-san would immediately ask about yesterday’s call. Sitting silently beside me like this makes it hard to talk. In my head, Maika’s words keep circling endlessly.

I pick up the glass of cider.

Condensation wets my palm.

I take a sip, pull a tissue from the crocodile’s back to wipe my hand, and look at her.

“You’re not going to ask about yesterday?”

If things continue like this, it feels like we’ll just study together and that will be the end.

That would match what we promised before winter break—nothing wrong with that—but today studying is only an excuse. If we don’t talk, calling her here would have no meaning.

“About the phone call?”

Her voice sounds like she’s trying to figure out what I mean.

“I thought you’d ask about it today.”

“I only came to teach you. Yesterday you said to come teach you, Miyagi.”

She looks up, puts down her pen.

And looks at me.

“But if you say you have something to say, I’ll listen. You do have something, right?”

She speaks as if she has no choice, with a face that isn’t unwilling but isn’t eager either. I should be used to it, yet today it makes me restless.

Probably because she isn’t in her uniform.

A knit sweater and a skirt that look like they could be bought anywhere.

If I wore them, they would look cheap, but on her they look appropriate and suit her. Yet seeing her in casual clothes for the first time since summer break makes her feel out of place in this room and strangely distant. Because of that, I can’t find the courage to ask what I need to ask.

“...Don’t you have anything to tell me, Sendai-san?”

I wipe the condensation on the glass with my fingertip and drink the cider.

I wish what happened between her and Maika would disappear like a bubble bursting, but it doesn’t.

“You said that yesterday too, but there’s really nothing. So, what do you want to say, Miyagi?”

I called her because I have something to say.

If I’m going to speak, it has to be today.

But even knowing that, my mouth won’t move properly, and I stay silent. Then she starts speaking instead.

“It’s not a good story, right? You don’t look very happy, Miyagi. If you don’t want to talk, we can drop it.”

Her voice sounds heavier than before. I inhale slowly. Then I exhale and open my mouth.

“Tell me what you talked about with Maika in the hallway.”

“Talking with Utsunomiya... you mean the time on the way to the school store?”

Her voice drops slightly, as if she’s reluctant to start an unpleasant topic.

“Yes.”

“I think I told you before. I said she asked me about calling you out at school, didn’t I?”

There is no way I could forget.

She said the same thing in the music preparation room, and I believed her. But now I know those words deliberately left something out.

“It wasn’t just that; you talked about other things too. ...Like which university I’m applying to.”

“...I see. You heard from Utsunomiya?”

She speaks as if she understands everything now.

“I heard yesterday. You already knew my first-choice school, so why did you ask me in the music preparation room which university I was applying to? Did you just want to see my reaction and find it amusing?”

My grades improved, and I changed my university choice. She must have thought I was following her and wanted to see me panic when silently called out for it.

I don’t want to follow her, and I’ve decided I’ll only meet her until graduation. Our universities being close is just a coincidence; I chose the same one Maika did. There is no other intention.

Anything else would be strange, and she would be wrong.

I want her to say something.

But she says nothing.

She keeps her mouth closed with a serious expression I rarely see.

“Sendai-san, answer me.”

I urge her, and her voice matches the seriousness on her face.

“Did it look like I was only doing it for fun?”

She looks at the bookshelf.

At the end of her gaze is the black cat she brought.

“I asked which university you were applying to because I wanted to hear your choice from your own mouth.”

Even though I was the one who was asked, she continues without waiting for my response.

“Then just ask normally. You could have said you heard it from Maika.”

I’m not angry, but my tone turns sharp. Her gaze shifts from the black cat to me.

“If I had said that, you would have said you weren’t applying to the same place as Utsunomiya, right?”

“That’s...”

She’s right.

If she had said she heard my university choice from Maika, I would have made up an excuse—said it was a mistake or that it was only a casual mention—and changed the university I had almost decided on.

“What are you going to do about university?”

She asks like a teacher.

“I don’t want to say.”

“Tell me.”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“It’s not the time to be hesitating. You’ve already decided, haven’t you? If you haven’t, just go to the same one as Utsunomiya.”

It’s true that it’s no longer a time to hesitate, and I have already decided. Even without her telling me, I intend to apply to the same university as Maika.

But I don’t want to tell her. If I say it out loud, it will sound like the university I chose of my own will was actually chosen just to match Sendai-san’s wishes. I have my own reasons, and I don’t want her to think I always do exactly what she wants. Besides, I don’t understand why she cares so much about where I apply.

“There’s no need to tell you, Sendai-san… Why are you trying so hard to make me apply to the same university or somewhere nearby? It doesn’t matter where I go.”

My voice turns a little rough, but I’m not angry. Still, Sendai-san makes a difficult expression and falls silent. I take a sip of cider to fill the sudden quiet.

It feels like I’m the one in the wrong, and I start to grow restless. It isn’t cold, but I reach for the remote to turn up the air conditioner anyway. Just then, Sendai-san speaks.

“Miyagi, do you not want to see me?”

The question, stripped of its true meaning, isn’t very quiet, but it carries the kind of anxiety a lost child has when asking for directions. I’ve never heard that sound in Sendai-san’s voice before.

“We promised, remember? After the graduation ceremony, I wouldn’t see you anymore.”

I didn’t particularly want to say it, but I pull out that old promise and throw it at her. I could have dodged the question that left out what really mattered, but with that unusual tone, I couldn’t give her a dishonest answer.

“I remember that promise. But that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking if, after graduation, you won’t ever want to see me.”

“What about you, Sendai-san?”

“I think I’d want to see you, Miyagi. And I think it would be fun if we could meet.”

I had expected her to tell me not to answer a question with a question, yet she earnestly answers the one I turned back at her.

“I don’t know how you feel, Miyagi, but coming to this room has become something I really look forward to, so if that disappeared, it would be boring.”

Sendai-san says things she normally wouldn’t say.

I want to see you.

Anyone can say that, and even if she means it today, tomorrow might be different. My father used to promise he’d come home earlier, that we’d eat dinner together, that we’d do things when we met.

But almost none of those promises came true.

My mother said she would always be with me.

But she disappeared from my life.

Promises are sweet like chocolate, and just as easy to melt.

They crumble and vanish in an instant.

I got tired of expecting anything years ago.

And Sendai-san doesn’t keep promises.

On top of that she keeps breaking the ones she made with me.

That’s why I can’t trust her “I want to see you.”

The only promise she’s kept so far is wearing the necklace, but she isn’t in her uniform today, so I can’t even tell if she has it on. I can’t believe she’s wearing it.

If I could see the necklace like I do after school every day, maybe I could believe her words. But I can’t find the courage to check. Instead, only sarcastic remarks come out.

“You say coming to this room is fun, but that’s a lie, right? Being called out after school for money and ordered around can’t possibly be fun.”

“If being ordered around was fun, I’d be a pervert, wouldn’t I?”

“So you’re saying it was never fun.”

When I say it coldly, Sendai-san frowns.

“It’s not that it wasn’t fun. I just didn’t know you very well at first. Besides, you didn’t think being with me was that fun at the beginning either, did you?”

The relationship that started on a whim was something that could end anytime. In the beginning, I only thought that once I got bored, I’d stop calling her here. But it wasn’t that she wasn’t fun.

“I found it fun that you did whatever I told you to.”

“That part of your personality is really bad.”

“Only with you, Sendai-san.”

I answer shortly, sounding exasperated, and a sigh comes from beside me. Then, in a serious voice, she calls my name.

“Miyagi.”

“Right now, do you think it’s fun when we’re together?”

Fun or not fun.

I have to choose one.

If I choose, there’s a condition attached, but I already know which side I’d pick.

“As long as you don’t do anything weird.”

“Does that mean it’s fun?”

“If you want to think so, go ahead.”

I mutter and look down.

My eyes meet the crocodile’s, I quickly look away and fix my gaze on Sendai-san’s feet.

“Hey, Miyagi. Just say you want to see me even after graduation. I won’t do anything weird.”

What she’s trying to make me say is dangerously close to breaking our promise. I don’t want to say it while I still can’t trust her, and I’d be troubled if saying it changed anything.

When I stay silent, Sendai-san lets out a long breath and leans back against the bed.

“Then, separate from whether we meet or not, wherever you end up going, tell me if you pass.”

“Why do I have to tell you?”

“Because we’re study partners. Even if we’re not friends, we studied together, so it’s not weird to tell me, right?”

“That might be true, but…”

“It’s not ‘might be.’ That’s just how it is. When you pass, tell me which university.”

She says it like it’s obvious and pushes the conclusion onto me.

I’ve already decided which university I’m applying to, and she already knows. She absolutely doesn’t believe my “I haven’t decided.” In that case, once exams are over, she could find out whether I passed with just a little searching, even if I don’t tell her.

There’s no point in staying silent.

“Fine… I’m not promising, though.”

“Okay.”

Satisfied with even that vague concession, Sendai-san answers in a softer voice.

Then, let’s study.

That’s what I thought she would say, so I pick up the pen rolling on the table. But instead of starting to study, she begins putting away the reference books and notebooks.

“I’ll go home now. I came late anyway.”

It’s true she arrived late, but on school days she sometimes leaves even later. I unconsciously grab her arm.

“You’re leaving?”

Nothing has been perfectly settled, and it can’t be called resolved, but I’ve said almost everything I wanted to say. Studying was only an excuse, so we don’t really need to do it.

But I don’t like her leaving so easily, like our business is done.

“I’m leaving.”

Thinking of the price I paid, the exchange I made to have her come during winter break, I don’t want her to go home this casually.

She could stay a little longer.

I should have the right to make her do that.

But to use that right, I have to soften what looks like her firm decision.

“What about the kiss?”

It’s the only thing I can think of to keep Sendai-san, who’s about to stand up, from leaving.

“A kiss?”

“You’re the one who made it a condition, Sendai-san.”

“I didn’t teach you anything today.”

Sendai-san, who usually does things far from reasonable, suddenly speaks with strict logic, so I grip her arm harder.

“Miyagi, that hurts.”

“Then teach me and go home. You promised on the phone yesterday.”

“If we study now, it’ll get late.”

I let go of her arm.

Then I take a small breath.

I hesitate over whether I should say the words that came to mind, then quietly speak.

“If it gets late, you can just stay over.”

“Huh?”

“You said it on the phone, Sendai-san. That you’d come if I let you stay.”

She said it herself.

So I’m only fulfilling her wish.

“I can really stay over?”

“My parents aren’t home today, so I’m alone.”

“That sounds kind of suggestive.”

My parents not being home means exactly what it sounds like. My father isn’t coming home tonight either. There’s no hidden meaning. If it sounds suggestive, that’s only because Sendai-san is the weird one.

“Then go home after all.”

I push her arm away, and she says, “I was joking.”

Her jokes are always in bad taste and too heavy to be jokes. If I take them seriously and answer sincerely, I’m the one who ends up hurt, so I hate it. Still, I have to check, just in case, because I never know what she’ll do.

“You can stay if you absolutely promise not to do anything weird.”

“That’s not something you say when inviting a girl to stay over.”

“Think about everything you’ve done until now, Sendai-san. If you’re not going to teach me, I’ll walk you downstairs.”

When I say that, she says, “I’ll at least call home,” and takes her smartphone out of her bag.